the trees dance and shudder
                                               not knowing why the cold hard
                                               wind has come and wondering 
                                               when it stops. bending complying
                                               cajoling - loving stretching
                                               grasping - straining cracking
                                               snapping - 
                                               now not knowing at all.

Faulkner's knowing and not knowing, being and not being, forming and un-forming one's self and others, delight me. So I paid him the sincerest tribute I knew how. 

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